Take Two
by L.C. Li
Summary: Ever since Sakura and Syaoran acted in a famous drama as children, fans have been pairing them as soulmates. Now that they are grown and costarring again, will they fall in love on set? / Sakura:Syaoran.
1. Action!

**1**

::-::

**Child actors steal hearts—and ratings**

_Sakura Kinomoto, 9, and Syaoran Li, 11, are now familiar faces in the drama world. They play the younger versions of the protagonists in the famed drama _Deus Ex Machina_, where an ordinary civilian finds herself in the middle of a fierce government plot and has to race against time to save all she knows and loves._

_The drama was not a show stealer at first, snagging in only 7% ratings. However, by the fifth episode, ratings shot up to 20% and even went into the high 30% by the eighth episode. Many speculate this is due to the child actors, who debuted in the fourth episode._

_Shall we see if the ratings can break 40% viewership? It may not be a ridiculous goal with such talent._

::-::

"Mooommm, you promised ice cream!" Sakura Kinomoto squeaked, swinging her hand in Nadeshiko's.

"I did, didn't I?" Nadeshiko said with a soft smile. "Very well. How about after this photo shoot?"

"But Mom, photo shoots are_ boring_! I just stand around while old people order me to do this, do that..." Sakura frowned distastefully. "Besides, even Syao-kun won't be there! It'll be even _more_ boring without Syao-kun!"

"Now, Sakura, you can do this," Nadeshiko said. "I'll take you to ice cream right after, okay? And I heard you'll get to wear dresses! Mr. Marr said so!"

Sakura perked noticeably at this statement. "Really? No more weird pants?"

Nadeshiko chuckled. Apparently Sakura wasn't yet at the age where 'cool' was a wanted look. "Not this time."

"Okay, I'll go."

Nadeshiko ruffled her hair and dropped her off at the studio room, leaving with a simple smile.

Sakura could never know that it would be the last time she saw her mother.

::-::

"Syao-kun."

Syaoran stirred on the couch but did not wake.

"Syaaaaaooooooo-kuuuuuuuuuuun! It's Sakura! Wakey-wakey!"

"Five more minutes, Mom..."

"Hoe? Silly boy. I'm not your mom!"

Syaoran squinted and pushed himself to an upright position. He could feel the static in his hair as it rubbed against the couch. "Oh. Hi, Sakura-chan."

"Hiiiii, Syao-kun! Hey, look at this dress! Doesn't it look pretty?" Sakura spun. Syaoran's eyes glazed over at the many layers of burning pink that overwhelmed his vision. "I love it! It's my favorite out of all the ones so far."

"Ah," a sleep-deprived Syaoran said, rubbing his eyes.

"But Syao-kun, why are you here? I thought you wouldn't be at the photo shoot?"

Syaoran only yawned and lay back down. "Ask me later, Sakura-chan," he mumbled. "I'm tired."

"Oh. Sorry. Tell me later, 'kay?"

"Nn." And before he knew it, Syaoran was asleep. Sakura only turned and whisked away, searching for her next victim.

Then Syaoran's eyes snapped open and he sat up abruptly. "Wait! Sakura-chan! I have something to tell you!"

But she was already gone.

::-::

"Mr. Marr, when's Mom coming? She said she'd take me to ice cream."

Julius Marr glanced down at the little girl by his side, his eyes filling with sorrow. The poor thing; she didn't deserve something like this happening to her.

"Well..."

The door flew open, and in rushed Touya and Fujitaka Kinomoto, foreheads sweaty but faces deathly pale.

"Touya? Daddy?" Sakura asked confusedly. "Why are you here? Is something wrong?"

Fourteen-year-old Touya stared at Julius Marr in disbelief. "Is it true? About Mom..."

Julius's face was etched with sorrow.

"What's wrong?" Sakura whispered, noting the tension in the air. "What happened to Mom?"

Fujitaka sank to his knees. "No. No. Julius, you can't be serious..."

"We received a call an hour ago." Julius bowed his head. "Her demise was immediately."

_Demise._ It sounded so familiar... but what was it? Sakura cast it around her head, but could not match up a meaning to the word.

Touya's face sank. Fujitaka only shook his head over and over again, whispering Nadeshiko's name.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Sakura whispered. "Did Mom... lose her job?"

A bitter laugh tore from Touya's throat. "If only."

"Touya," Fujitaka said sternly.

Touya only turned no his heel and strode out of the room... right as Syaoran sprinted in.

"Sakura-chan!" Syaoran gasped.

Then he felt the heaviness in the air, saw the pain in Fujitaka's expression, and realized his message to Sakura was going to have to wait.

He felt his cell phone buzzing in his front pocket and flipped it open. It was a text from his mother.

She's gone, Xiao Lang. Nadeshiko Kinomoto is gone.

Syaoran's eyes widened. All at once, a painful array of emotions washed over his body: extreme anger, overwhelming sadness, and a fierce desire to protect Sakura from all the pain in the world.

He walked over and slipped his arms around her. She was used to touching him, since they were often sparring in the drama—but the expression on his face was very confusing. His nose was all scrunched up, like he wanted to cry over something but wasn't sure how.

"I'm sorry," he choked, patting the top of her head. "Kami, Sakura-chan... I'm so sorry..."

She, confused, only smoothed the top of his brown head. "Shh, Syao-kun, it's okay..."

But it wouldn't be.

Not for a very long time.

::-::

**Kinomoto maintains breathtaking performances**

_It's amazing what a nine-year-old girl can do when she sets her mind to it._

_The world held its breath when Nadeshiko Kinomoto, Sakura Kinomoto's beloved mother, passed away in a sudden car accident this past spring. Many wondered if the young Kinomoto would be able to get past this grief._

_Amazingly, the accident did not hinder Kinomoto's acting skills, but propelled them. "I might have shed a tear or two when her character though [Syaoran Li's] character had died," Herbert Polonius, acclaimed critic, admits. "Her tears, her pain, affected me more deeply than any other performance this year. [...] I even forgot she was acting, and that is not an easy thing to do to a man like me."_

_The drama Kinomoto current acts in, _Deus Ex Machina_, is airing for 22 episodes and is hitting 40% viewership at just the sixteenth episode. Let us hope Kinomoto can keep up her spectacular performances._

* * *

><p><strong><em>(AN: So it kind of starts off depressingly... but it gets better, I swear. The next chapter will begin in present time, when the two are adults. Look forward to it! ;)_**

**_What do you think of Nadeshiko? She probably came across as cliche, which I really didn't want to do... But since she has no character arc and was gonna die soon anyway, I figured that I'll just make her perfect for the tiny little scene she's in._**

**_Thoughts? On Nadeshiko, Sakura and Syaoran, the plot...?)_**

_Next update estimate: this weekend or middle of next week_


	2. The Offer

**2**

::-::

_Present day, 15 years later_

Sakura Kinomoto was sick of it.

The fan mail, the hate mail, the fame, the criticism, the praise... Kami, she was even beginning to hate the money! Was it too much to ask just to _act_?_ That_ was her passion, not earning money!

She screamed into her pillow. Loudly.

"Ohh Saaaakura-chaaaaan!" The one and only Tomoyo Daidouji flounced into the room, whipping the curtains open and chirping, "It's a goooooooooorgeous day, and you mustn't be sleeping!"

Sakura groaned, turned over, and threw her blankets over her face. "No one's home. Go away."

"Ohohohoho. Think you can get rid of me that easily? Think again, Sakura-chan!" Tomoyo ripped the blankets off Sakura's bed. "Up you get!"

Sakura moaned and curled into a ball. "Just let me die."

"Now, Sakura Kinomoto, just because you are in an acting slump does _not_ mean you can lounge around like a snail! I simply will not allow it!"

"Yes, I've noticed."

"Oh, come on, Sakura-chan. I have an incredibly interesting offer _just for you_!"

"Is this anything like that_ other_ offer where I was supposed to jump out of a moving airplane with no parachute and a decapitated llama on my back?"

"Well, it_ was_ interesting; you have to give me that."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Anyways... What's this about an offer? Are you actually doing your managerial duties now?"

"You make it sound as if I haven't all this time."

"You haven't."

It was true. Tomoyo Daidouji was technically Sakura's manager, but she spent most of her time making different outfits for Sakura, documenting everything via 'candid camera', and pretending that every little event in Sakura's life was part of a musical.

Oh, dear. She was breaking out into song again.

"_Ohhh~ What have we here?_  
><em>Yes, it's Sakura, Sakura<em>  
><em>A Sakura blossom, having not yet bloomed~<em>  
><em>She feels that she is inexplicably doomed~<em>"

"Remind me to fire you," Sakura said grumpily, sitting up. "You don't even do your duties as a manager."

"Now why would I do that when I can just use my managerial powers to hire someone else to do that work?" Tomoyo flashed her signature million-watt smile. "Besides, you must admit that your wardrobe is looking quite splendid. Ohohohoho."

Sakura sighed, but the slightest hint of a smile curled her lips. Tomoyo had always been able to cheer her up when she was feeling her worst. "Thanks, Tomoyo-chan."

"That's what friends are for, Sakura-chan." Tomoyo's face lit up. "Oh, and I made a new sundress for you! Splendid, if I say so myself. I know autumn's coming soon, but I had inspiration and I just couldn't help myself! I made a matching cardigan so you wouldn't get cold, and—"

"I'll wear it today," Sakura assured her, knowing that would make her happiest.

Tomoyo span, arms flung out in pure joy.

"_What a wooonderful daaaay!~_  
><em>And I oooowe it all to myyyy~<em>  
><em>Beautiful and talented<em>  
><em>Saaakura pie~<em>"

Sakura winced at her choice of lyrics, but got out of bed anyway. At least she could sing.

Kind of.

::-::

"Well, you look charming today."

Mussed brown hair, burning amber eyes, a wrinkled t-shirt and pants that had not been washed in at least two months. 'Charming' was not how most people would describe this face of Syaoran Li.

"Shut it, Eriol," Syaoran growled, slamming his coffee mug on the table. Liquid sloshed on his hand. He grimaced at the burning pain and hurried to rinse his hand under cold water.

"Let me guess." A smile twisted Eriol Hiiragizawa's mouth. "Another dream? About a certain... kind of flower?"

"I said_ shut it_, Eriol!"

"_Someone's_ grumpy today." Eriol sighed. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, the main actress in consideration for_ The Law of Love_ is dear Sakura-chan."

"She probably won't even accept. She's not into acting for dramas anymore. Mainly action movies." Syaoran gloomily stirred his coffee... with a chopstick. Because already-brewed coffee_ obviously_ needed stirring, and Asians do everything with chopsticks anyway.

Eriol only grinned. "If you're this grumpy, it must've been a rather... _good_ dream?"

"_Eriol_. I swear I will fire you."

"You can't. You know I'm irreplaceable."

"Eriol Hiiragizawa!" Syaoran clenched his fist tightly. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm in a genuinely _bad mood_. I don't feel like joking around, and I certainly don't feel like talking about_ her_. So can you_ please_ just leave me alone before I blow my top and give your stupid hair a bath in this stupid coffee?"

Realizing that his cousin really _was_ in a bad mood, Eriol decided not to say anything witty. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

Syaoran ran his hand through his hair. "Mom."

"Ah." Enough said.

"They say she's gonna die soon." Syaoran ran his hand through his hair—again. No wonder it was so mussy, unlike Eriol's neatly gelled locks. "I don't even know if I should be sad. I don't even know if I should visit her."

Eriol placed a hand on his shoulder. "Which do you prefer, Syaoran? Going and risking a little discomfort, or not going and wishing you had for the rest of your life?"

::-::

"A drama with Syaoran?" Sakura frowned slightly, slurping her instant ramen-one of the simple pleasures in life that few expected a famous and wealthy actress to indulge in.

"Yep," Tomoyo said, eyes sparkling. "It's called _The Law of Love_. I've read the synopsis; it'll be good for you to stretch your acting wings and get out of your slump."

Sakura silently took the papers from Tomoyo, scanning their contents.

"Sakura-chan... You haven't been in any romance movies because of_ him_, right?" Tomoyo said. "Ohh, the drama! He truly must be your first love..."

Sakura blushed. "Tomoyo-chan, we've grown too far apart."

"So? Now's the time to reconnect!" Tomoyo was already in dreamland. "You will fall in love on set. It's unavoidable. I'll even bet one hundred yen on it!"

"...Tomoyo-chan, one hundred yen is literally _nothing_."

"On the contrary, it's not nothing. It's one hundred yen," Tomoyo said, shooting an accusatory glare at Sakura. "But does this mean you'll take the offer?"

Sakura pushed the papers back. "...I'll consider it."

Tomoyo grinned and danced out of the room, making a call as soon as she was out of earshot. "Hello? Director Tsukimoto? This is Daidouji, Sakura Kinomoto's manager. She's accepted the offer."

* * *

><p><em><strong>(AN: So I know everyone's adult selves were kind of OCC. Syaoran's **__**more brooding than I originally planned and Sakura's kind of... not happy and cheerful. But she's just temporarily grumpy! Her real personality will shine through soon...**_

_**Until then, please bear with it! :)**_

**_How's the story so far? the character interactions? the plot?)_**

_Next update estimate: Late next week._


	3. Overdue Greetings

_**(Disclaimer: ...I guess I forgot to do this all along. Anyways, if you think I really own Cardcaptor Sakura, you are, to put it simply, a stupid piehead who should go eat some fudge cake.)**_

* * *

><p><strong>3<strong>

::-::

Syaoran kept running his hands through his hair. Eriol glanced at him amusingly.

"Dear cousin, if you keep this up, half your hair will fall out by the time we reach the hospital. Sincerely, your cousin Eriol Hiiragizawa."

"Dear Eriol, I don't remember asking you opinion. If you have nothing to do except talk to your moody cousin, I suggest you play Words with Friends. Oh, wait. I forgot. You don't have any. Sincerely, Syaoran Li."

"Dear cousin, might I remind you that I am driving_ you_ in this car and am feeling free to crash it at any point in time. Thus, I would like for you to watch your words. Sincerely, Eriol Hiiragizawa."

"Dear Eriol, might I remind you that _you_ are in the same car, and by crashing it, would probably kill yourself too. Sincerely, Syaoran Li."

Eriol could tell his cousin was beginning to relax and smiled. It was the easiest way for both of them to relax: insult or banter with each other.

"Dear cousin, I know something you don't know." This in a singsong voice.

"Dear Eriol, what would that be?"

"Something regarding a certain type of flower."

It was as if someone threw a bucket of ice water over Syaoran. He bolted upright, eyes wide. "What? About Sakura? What is it?"

"Mum's the word, my dear cousin. I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."

"Eriol Hiiragizawa!"

"It's not my fault you never check your phone _or_ your email."

"That's why I have a _manager_. Heard of the word, Hiiragizawa? You should have. _Because you are one_."

Eriol only chuckled. "How about this: I'll tell you after you visit your mother. It's incentive for you to actually talk with her."

Syaoran only scowled and looked out the window. Hokkaido snow drifted by the glass, licking falling petals as they brushed through their course.

"Already snowing," he mumbled.

"It_ is_ Hokkaido."

"I suppose."

Fifteen more minutes passed in complete silence, broken only by two words from Eriol:

"We're here."

Syaoran slipped from the car, staring at the rundown hospital before him. How sad, that the once rich and powerful Yelan Li of X-Centre Corporations would die like this: forgotten, alone...

He walked through the door. A nurse guided him to his mother's room.

Eriol put a hand on his shoulder. "Cousin, I'm proud of you."

"You and me both," Syaoran joked weakly.

"I mean it," Eriol said, looking very serious.

Syaoran only nodded, took a deep breath, and entered the room.

::-::

Sakura adjusted the hood over her eyes as she slipped into the crowded GameSpot. She'd heard Mass Effect 4 had just been released, and Syaoran had always liked those kinds of games...

"You could have just ordered it online," whispered Tomoyo from beside her, sporting over large glasses and a fake mustache.

"No," Sakura said firmly. "I need something special done to it."

"Sakura-chan..." Tomoyo sighed tragically. "You give each other present every holiday but don't even talk to each other? Isn't that kinda... strange?"

Sakura shrugged. "I guess it is... But talking just feels uncomfortable."

"Since when?" Tomoyo nagged. "You told me you were best friends when you were younger!"

Sakura shrugged again. "He just... stopped talking with me. Just... left." She sighed. "At any rate, I'm over it now. It was in the past. I'm sure he just got bored of me."

"Sakura Kinomoto. You _know_ that's not true."

But Sakura fixed her attention back in front of her. She was now at the desk, ready to order.

"Miss, how can I help you?" the clerk said tiredly.

"Mass Effect 4, please. And I have a special request."

"Gift wrapping, perhaps?"

Sakura shook her head. She motioned for the clerk to come closer. He did.

When Sakura relayed her request, his eyes widened until they were the size of ostrich eggs.

"M-Miss? That'll be very expensive..."

"I am aware of that." Sakura slipped her credit card over the glass counter. "Feel free to check it."

"Y-your ID, Ma'am..."

Sakura did. He saw the name on it. Tomoyo could've sworn his brain was bleeding out of his ears.

"No need to check it, Ma'am. Are you certain on this order?"

"Yes."

"V-very well." The man swiped her card and the deal was done. "Oh, and... Ms. Kinomoto? Might I have your autograph?"

::-::

The room was dark. It was choking Syaoran, but he moved forward until his eyes adjusted to the little candlelight on a desk nearby.

His mother was pale. He didn't need better light to see that. Her ribs stuck out through her hospital gown, and all color had been lost in her hair and lips. Her eyes were hazed with suffering, and for the briefest moment, Syaoran felt a surge of sympathy for his mother, who had once been a proud woman.

She squinted as he came in; from the light, or attempt to recognize him, he did not know.

"Syaoran," she said simply.

"Mrs. Li," Syaoran replied.

Yelan drew herself up. "Why did you come? How did you come?"

Syaoran said nothing.

Yelan sank back down to her cot. "Eriol put you up to this."

It wasn't a question. Syaoran only nodded curtly.

"Syaoran..." His mother's voice was soft. "I'm glad you came. I wanted... I wanted to apologize."

Syaoran only remained in stony silence.

"I love you, Syaoran. I'm sorry I did what I did. I'm sorry it drove us apart." She turned and looked him straight in the eye.

"I'm sorry for killing Sakura's mother."

* * *

><p><em><strong>(AN: Ooh. The plot thickens. What is Yelan talking about? And what do you think Sakura's doing with Syaoran's present?**_

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this story, and please continue to do so! To be honest, I feel a little put out when I see that other stories, which don't even have correct spelling and grammar and have terrible plot, have more reviews. So... well, not to be a downer, but please review? :D)**_

**Next chapter preview:**

_"Scriptreading is tomorrow at eleven," Eriol said, sensing Syaoran's good mood and seizing his chance. "Be ready by ten. Wouldn't want to be unprepared for your lover, now, would you?"_

_"Eriol—!"_

_"Er—Syaoran? That's a knife. That's a very _nasty_ knife. Please put it away before you hurt anyone. Syaoran?"_


	4. Golden Gate

**(A/N:**_** Chapter dedicated to... my latest reviewer upon the writing of this chapter, **whathappenedtotruelove**! Thank you for your kind comments! They really help me keep going. *burst of confetti* Sorry, no prizes... but still!)**_

**cupid17** • Thank you so much for your review! :)

**deadflo** • Ah, yes... hopefully some confusion is cleared up in this chapter.

**xxXandraaLingxx** • Why thank you so much! And yes, your review really pleases me and helps me update faster! :)

**redeyes143** • Well, you're in luck! This chapter is the longest so far.

**Mishrav Mikura** • Oh wow! Good eye! Yes, haha, I'll go back and change that as soon as I can. Thanks for catching that :)

**Aizawa Li Syaoran Vessalius** • Hm, did Yelan really kill Nadeshiko? Only time will tell... Cool name, btw.

**Okami Hime Sakura** • Thank you so much for your review!

**LadyMidnightGuardian** • Hmmm, let's see, shall we? You might not know why in this chapter, but rest assured the reason will out itself soon enough...

**SakuSyaoLvr** • Your questions shall be answered! :) Thanks for your review!

**whathappenedtotruelove** • Thanks so much for your comments! It really means a lot to me. Yes, I hope for this to be somewhat comedic, but it also has some very dramatic moments. Keep reading! :)

**agedashi** • Thank you so much for your two reviews! I'm very glad the clichéness in the beginning isn't offputting. As for the optimism, I really hope to bring that part back to Sakura even though she has a right not to be! Yeah her mother died and Syaoran pretty much cut off communication... but I'd like for her to keep her base personality. And yeah Syaoran's still pretty broody. :) Once again, thanks for your reviews and I hope you like this chapter!

_**(A/N: Thank you everyone for your kind reviews! Please keep reading and reviewing!)**_

* * *

><p><strong>4<strong>

::-::

"Scriptreading?" Sakura repeated.

Tomoyo nodded eagerly. "This Friday, eleven A.M. sharp. You can give him the gift then."

"I thought I hadn't officially accepted yet," Sakura said suspiciously.

"Well, I knew you would eventually, so I went ahead and accepted for you," Tomoyo said coolly.

"Tomoyo-chan!"

"What? It's true! You _would_ have accepted!"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Ohohohoho!"

Outwardly, Sakura rolled her eyes, but inside, she was rejoicing.

She couldn't wait for Friday.

::-::

"Ah, home, sweet, home."

"Eriol. Tell me."

"I think I shall always love Tokyo. Perhaps I just have a thing for big cities."

"Eriol."

"Or maybe it's the sights? All the lights are very pretty at night..."

"For all that is right and good in this earth...!"

"What's that, Meowers? Yes, come to think of it, I think I _do_ hear a cricket chirping..."

"Kami, Eriol, I am _not_ a cricket!"

"Persistent, this cricket."

"Eriol! You said you knew something about Sakura! I went. I talked with my mom. Now tell me before I cut your toenails with a rusty toothpick!"

"Violent, this cricket." Eriol glanced sideways at him. "And scientifically incorrect. I believe only _metal_ can rust."

Syaoran leaned his head on the couch seat and let out an audible groan. "What have I done in a past life to deserve having _this_ as my manager?"

"Something awe-inspiringly wonderful, apparently," Eriol said with a cheeky grin.

Syaoran rolled his eyes.

Eriol reached into his pocket and pulled out his buzzing phone, answering it with a strange smile. "Yes, this is Eriol Hiiragizawa, manager of Syaoran Li. How may I help you? ...Why hello, Director Tsukimoto... Yes... Yes... Oh? Sakura accepted?" (Syaoran twitched noticeably at this statement.) "Yes... Yes, we were on the plane and then before that I wasn't taking any calls... Tomorrow at eleven? No, shouldn't be a problem... See you then."

"You knew," Syaoran growled. "You knew she accepted."

"Oh? How would I know that?" Eriol said innocently.

Under different circumstances, Syaoran might have launched another complaint about how cruel and useless his manager was, but he was too shocked and happy that Sakura had actually accepted the offer.

"Scriptreading is tomorrow at eleven," Eriol said, sensing Syaoran's good mood and seizing his chance. "Be ready by ten. Wouldn't want to be unprepared for your lover, now, would you?"

"Eriol—!"

"Er—Syaoran? That's a knife. That's a very _nasty_ knife. Please put it away before you hurt anyone. Syaoran?"

::-::

_"I'm sorry for killing Sakura's mother."_

_Syaoran's jaw tightened. "Mrs. Li."_

_"It seemed like a wise decision at the time, alright? Your father supported it. I even... I even thought _you_ might support it. You didn't even seem too fond of the girl. You _did_ tell me she was annoying..."_

_"Mrs. Li!"_

_"I know now that was just my misinterpretation. You had strong feelings for her; of course you were going to seem awkward." She turned. "Syaoran... Please. I know why you've distanced yourself from her, but... Don't let this old woman's mistake ruin your life._ I_ killed Nadeshiko, not_ you_."_

_"There won't be a difference to Sakura."_

_"Yes, there will be. Sakura is an intelligent young woman and thinks of you as a childhood friend, not a murderer."_

_"Mrs. Li..."_

_"I'm near the end of my life, Syaoran. I don't want to hear my son calling me so formally. Come here... I think that now that I've told you everything, I might rest in peace."_

_She left the world like that; sleeping, cradled in Syaoran's arms as he cried and cursed..._

::-::

**Childhood soulmates Kinomoto and Li costar in romantic drama!**

_Famous actors Sakura Kinomoto and Syaoran Li were once involved as children in the classic, much-loved runway hit _Deus Ex Machina_. For years afterward, fans talked of possible romance between the two—and now, the possibility is showing itself!_

_Reliable sources have stated that Kinomoto and Li have agreed to costar in a romantic comedy crime drama titled _The Law of Love_. Little is known about the drama at the present moment, but rest assured we will find the details as soon as possible._

_Shall the childhood soulmates fall in love on set? Will onscreen chemistry carry into their real lives?_

::-::

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Sakura moaned and rolled over on her stomach, jamming her pillow around her ears in a vain attempt to block out the insufferable sound of her alarm.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Sakura tossed her pillow off her bed and slammed the heel of her hand down on her alarm clock, which had begun to accumulate a rather large dent in its center.

But then she remembered today was _Friday_.

The day where she was going to see Syaoran face-to-face for the first time in _years_.

And suddenly she felt quite awake.

"Oh Saaaaakura! I just had a wonderful inspiration, right in time for this wondrous occasion!" Tomoyo burst through her door, dangerously waving a large curling iron in her hands. "Hurry and get up! I have to do your hair—oh my! Sakura-chan! You're... actually... _awake_!"

Sakura blushed slightly, in the middle of combing her shoulder-length auburn locks. "Y-yes, you could say that..."

"Ohohoho! It's because of Li, is it not?" Without waiting for a reply: "I knew it! Oh, Sakura, don't you think I'm a genius? I mean, the love between you two even after all these years is so _obvious_—"

"Tomoyo."

"You know, what I never understood is why you keep doubting his feelings for you. If he keeps sending you gifts, he is _obviously_ likes you!"

"Tomoyo."

"Oh, Sakura, please. Couldn't you just take a hint for once? And honestly, why do you keep saying my name like that? I know what I'm talking about! No need to ruin a girl's dreams..."

"Tomoyo, which dress should I wear?"

Tomoyo stopped in her tracks and stared at Sakura with wide eyes.

"You mean... Sakura-chan, you weren't going to... rebuke me? You're asking for... _fashion advice_?"

Sakura shifted uncomfortably, glancing between a chiffon cream sundress and a satiny emerald casual cocktail. "Um... yeah. I just... I want to look my best, you know? I mean..."

"I never knew this day would come!" Tomoyo nearly swooned. "This is so wonderful! I—I don't even know what to say!"

" 'Cream' or 'emerald' would suffice."

Tomoyo suddenly became serious. "Go with the cream. It's the first meeting, right? You don't want to look stuffy. The emerald cocktail can be for your first date."

Sakura made no comment on that. She slipped into the dressing room adjacent to her bedroom, handing the emerald cocktail to Tomoyo.

"And when you're done, let me do your hair, darling!" Tomoyo called.

_...Darling?_

::-::

"We're here."

Syaoran clenched his hands into sweaty fists as he stared at the broad gate before him, proud letters etched in gold: _Sunrise Studios_. "I-I can see that."

"Aww, is the likkle Syao-Syao scared?" Eriol stuck out his bottom lip in a mock pout. "Does he wanna run home to his Mommy—Oh, uh, I mean..." He coughed loudly into his sleeve.

"It's fine," Syaoran mumbled, wiping his hands on his slacks. "We'd better go in."

"Uh, right." Eriol slipped a little box into Syaoran's pocket. "Remember to give this to her."

"I don't think I could forget if I wanted to."

"Just remember. You're _Syaoran_. The famous actor. Cool and calm, but not a jerk. The Number Two Desirable Male in Japan."

"...Let me guess who the Number One Desirable Male in Japan is..."

"Yours truly." Eriol grinned and stepped out of the compact but comfortable Toyota Corolla. He had suggested they go to the studios in the limousine, saying it would impress Sakura more, but Syaoran hated burning extra gas. He also pointed out that Sakura was used to riding around in limousines herself; why would it impress her that he would use one?

"You wish," Syaoran said weakly, squeezing his untucked dress shirt so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Now, sir..." Eriol bowed and motioned toward the gates. "Welcome to your doom."

::-::

Director Tsukimoto was cackling so hard in his giant executive chair that those around him feared he would soon burst a capillary.

"Director, please, take a deep breath," begged his secretary, Takashi Yamazaki. "You know, the Meiji Emperor Mutsuhito died from oxygen deprivation when he laughed too hard after pulling a prank on U.S. President George W. Bush..."

"Silence!" Tsukimoto yelled. "Bush wasn't even the President during the Meiji era!"

Takashi frowned and jotted something down on his clipboard. "Note to self: Remind Director Tsukimoto to read up more on the Meiji era."

"Silence!" Tsukimoto leaned forward and stared at the broad monitors before him. "We're just getting to the good part! They're about to meet!"

"You know, Director..." Takashi cleared his throat nervously as he straightened his tie. "Don't you think that using stalker cameras to track the leads' chemistry is rather... unnecessary? They are, after all, good actors. Shouldn't they have good chemistry no matter—"

"Oh, hush! You're ruining the good part!" Tsukimoto reached under his chair and pulled out a bag of popcorn.

"D-Director, where did you—?"

"Shhh! They're going to meet! Be quiet!"

::-::

Sakura clenched her hand over her dress, trying to still her beating heart._Just think of him as another costar, Sakura. Think of him as a fellow actor. Not as... Syaoran Li._

"Sakura-chan! I see him! He's over there!"

Sakura's head whipped toward where Tomoyo was pointing. There he was, on the other side of the gate, staring up at the studio name, hands shoved into his pockets. Her heart jerked as she realized—and oh, this sounded so cliché—how he was more handsome in person than the pictures gave him credit for. His warm amber eyes, nearly covered with his untamed shock of brown hair, and his comforting broad shoulders and confident stature...

_Or you just miss him._

Sakura took a step, then another, and then—

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing?" Tomoyo clutched her arm and twisted her around. "You can't look at him! You can't let him know that you know he's there!"

"W-what?" Sakura stammered blankly. "B-but if he's..."

"Nooo! Sakura, don't you remember anything I taught you? What's the first rule of _The Art of Attraction_?"

"Please, Tomoyo, I... I haven't seen him in forever, I..."

"_The first rule_."

"...Rule number one: Be available, not easy."

"Precisely. Make _him_ come to _you_." Tomoyo sighed and took Sakura's hand. "Sakura-chan... I know how much you want to talk to him, especially after this long. But... you want him to want you, right?"

"I thought you said he likes me."

"Well, yes, but..." Tomoyo sighed again. "Please? Just try this."

Sakura couldn't deny that the thought of Syaoran coming to her was enticing. She took a deep breath and forced her eyes to stay away from her childhood friend.

"Okay."

::-::

"She's over there."

Syaoran stiffened immediately, trying to keep his eyes fixated on the gate. "Who is?"

"The trash lady," Eriol said.

Syaoran jerked. "W-wait, wha, huh? Are you serious?"

Eriol rolled his eyes. "Yes, of_ course_ I'm serious. You would _obviously_ be interested in the _trash lady_. Really, cousin? You know who I'm talking about."

Syaoran couldn't stop himself. His gaze roved across Sunrise Studios, searching desperately for the girl he had only contacted through semi-anonymous gifts and bribed media offers for the past fifteen years. It didn't take him very long to find her; ever since he was young, he had prided himself on being able to find Sakura Kinomoto within thirty seconds.

She was with her manager Tomoyo Daidouji, dressed in a beautiful cream dress that looked specifically tailored for her slender figure (although, then again, knowing Daidouji, it probably_ was_ specifically tailored). Even from a distance of around sixty feet away, he could spot her sparkling emerald eyes—eyes he constantly saw in his dreams—and her signature auburn hair.

"Oy. Cousin. Snap out of it. Don't you remember what I said earlier today? Play it cool. It'll drive her crazy."

"I..." Syaoran had been so convinced that he wanted her to chase after him, but now... "I don't know if I want to drive her crazy."

"You want her to fall for you, right?" Eriol tapped his fingers impatiently against his folded arms. "You have to make her want you. Look open, but don't go running after her."

"I... I don't know if I can."

"Cousin! You can do this! We've practiced it a million times!"

"Yes, well, I have no trouble not running to _you_..."

Eriol scowled, choosing to ignore that comment. "One more thing. Stop looking at her. Or she'll catch you."

Syaoran tried to tear his eyes away. He really tried. And perhaps he might have succeeded...

Had not Sakura turned and looked right at him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>(AN: So, good news and bad news. The good news is that chapters will probably be much longer from now on, like this length! The bad news is that, due to the good news, chapters will be less frequent. But really, I'll try my best to update when I can!**_

_**If you could drop a review, that would be lovely. :))**_


	5. The Cabin

_**(A/N: I know it's been a while. And I'm SORRRRYYYY. But I was seriously stuck on the whole reunion thing...)**_

My absolute and sincere thanks to **Aizawa Li Syaoran Vessalius, deadflo, Mishrav Mikura, SakuSyaoLvr, kazumicute, SeafoamMist, cupid17, redeyes143, boreum dal, ai-chan97, LadyMidnightGuardian, LeeMeru, mochiusagi, EndlessSugar, Belle Melodie, **and** KawaiiArny13** for amazing reviews. I can't believe how much support I'm getting for this story, and I feel so privileged! I hope this chapter does not disappoint. (But it might. Who knows.)

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><p><strong>5<strong>

::-::

Tomoyo Daidouji had always been a romantic at heart.

She thrived on drama, bloomed in adversity, flourished in theatrics, prospered in the sensational... Well, you probably get the picture.

Perhaps that is why Tomoyo made such an excellent (albeit somewhat crazy) manager. She had the true discerning eye: Which projects had the ability to become ravishing masterpieces, which projects would fail, and when to turn down a major studio's offer and replace it with a promising idea from an upstart company. She also knew exactly how Sakura liked her coffee (or rather, lack thereof; Sakura disliked coffee, instead choosing to go with frappuccinos in the summer and hot chocolate in the winter).

Tomoyo's discerning eye had saved Sakura from both uncomfortable and impossible circumstances. It would not be an exaggeration to say that behind every great actor is a great manager. (If you don't believe it, think of it this way: Would an actor get very far with a bad manager?)

Thus, both Tomoyo's discerning eye and her penchant for romance knew that she had to interfere, and _fast_.

It wasn't that she didn't want Sakura to be happy—a blight upon her flawless face if she wished for such an evil thing!—but, as much as she loved dramatics, she could tell that things were developing _way_ too fast to be healthy.

She linked eyes with Eriol Hiiragizawa, somewhat surprised to recognize the same reaction of faint panic in his eyes. They nodded in silent agreement before moving to act.

"Let's go, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo said, roughly linking her arm through Sakura's and dragging her towards the entrance. She noticed Eriol doing the same thing to Syaoran from the corner of her eye.

As expected, Sakura didn't even fight. She was in shock.

_I'm sorry, Sakura-chan,_ Tomoyo thought. _We can't risk anything happening... Not when you two aren't in your right minds._

::-::

Director Tsukimoto was in a noticeably bad mood by the time the managers had pulled their charges offscreen.

"Who are they?" he barked to Takashi. "Get me background profiles on them immediately. Name, birth date, address, criminal record, _everything_! There will be blood spilled tonight..."

Takashi frowned. "Director, you _are_ aware that they are the managers...?"

"_Managers_? They _ruined my scene_! And nobody. Ever. Ruins. A Tsukimoto scene." Tsukimoto leapt from his chair—an amazing feat considering his rather _stout_ frame—and leaned over on his tiptoes in an attempt to compensate for his lack of height. "Yamazaki. Do you know why I am a successful director?"

"Because you have a good secretary," Takashi said proudly.

"WRONG!" Tsukimoto barked. "It's because my films are works of _art_. Art, I say! And what happens to art?"

"It's exhibited in a museum?" Takashi asked timidly.

"WRONG!" Tsukimoto barked. "Art is _not_ _vandalized_! You will never find a stroke of graffiti, a scrap of toilet paper, or whatever else marring the surface of a masterpiece!"

"Actually, Director, some would say that art has a _penchant_ for being van—"

"Let me ask you a question, Yamazaki. What just happened on the camera—what would you consider that?"

"An... outtake?" Yamazaki squeaked.

"WRONG!" Tsukimoto began to pace back and forth across his office. "It is _vandalization_, Yamazaki! Vandalization of art!" He slammed his hand on his desk. It creaked ominously. "What happens to those who vandalize art, Yamazaki?"

"They, er, probably used spray paint and toilet paper—"

"Not what they _used_, Yamazaki! What _happens_ to them? What _happens _to the worst kind of lowlife criminal to exist on Earth?"

"P-pardon me for saying this, Director," Yamazaki mumbled, "but that _was_ just a hidden camera stunt—"

"_WHAT DID YOU SAY?_"

"Nothing!" Yamazaki instantly fell down in a dogeza. "A thousand apologies, a million regrets, a billion—"

To his surprise, Tsukimoto only sank back into his chair and sighed. "Perhaps you are right, Yamazaki. At any rate, the reading team is to meet in Conference Room 2B. Would you get the place ready?"

Yamazaki shot to his feet, nodding fervently. "It will be ready within the second, Director."

Tsukimoto chose not to point out that a second had already passed. "Go," he said.

"Yessir!" Yamazaki saluted before striding out the door. Once he was out of sight, he gave a long, heavy sigh.

Director Tsukimoto really wasn't all that bad, he mused. Occasionally he would get into these 'moods' where he would sway from giggling schoolgirl to thundering madman; but most of the time he was a wise, commanding, and competent director. Thankfully he seemed to have calmed down from his earlier rage.

It was only until after the reading room was assembled that Yamazaki realized he'd left the scripts in Tsukimoto's office.

Well... maybe he'd get them _later_.

::-::

"Wake _up_, cousin!" Eriol hissed, elbowing Syaoran in the ribs. "You've seen every single one of her movies. You know what she looks like! Why the freeze-up _now_?"

Eriol's admittedly sharp elbow seemed to have no effect on Syaoran. He only stared blankly at the tiled wall of the gentlemen's restroom.

"Cousin. Syaoran. Syaoran Li!" Eriol shook his shoulders violently. "Yes, it's wonderful that you saw Sakura after so many years—but you're an _actor_, and I don't understand why you'd be so shaken by—"

"The moon," Syaoran said.

Eriol stopped. "The moon?" Quite cryptic. Quite useless.

"You can't fully capture its glow on camera," Syaoran said, and Eriol understood.

Sakura was faring slightly better. Ironically enough, Syaoran was a hopeless romantic, while Sakura had been forced to counteract Tomoyo throughout the years.

"It's okay, Tomoyo," she said as they strode to Conference Room 2B. "I won't freeze up next time. I was just... surprised."

"By how handsome he was?" Tomoyo said with a grin.

"I simply haven't seen him in a long while," Sakura said neutrally. "I'll be better during the reading."

"Sakura-chan, that's not the point," Tomoyo said mournfully. "You don't have to hold yourself _back_... Hiiragizawa-san and I pulled you two away because we were afraid you wouldn't think clearly, and something bad might—"

"It's okay, Tomoyo." Sakura opened the conference room door. "I know that you're looking out for me. I'll do better next time." She smiled quietly. "After all, I _do_ want to make a good impression on Syaoran...san."

Tomoyo smiled back as she slipped inside the conference room... but she couldn't help thinking that Sakura was acting very strangely.

Eriol and Syaoran were already in the room along with two of the scriptwriters who were typing furiously on bent and battered laptops. Tomoyo forced Sakura in the seat next to Syaoran, then bent by Eriol to communicate briefly.

"How is he?"

"In love. It's been great fun."

"Has it?"

"Well, a bit frustrating, I'll gather, but mainly fun." Eriol glanced at his charge. "His feelings are much deeper than I'd originally suspected."

"I think Sakura-chan is suppressing herself. She did this when her mother died, too."

"Kinomoto-san seems quite... changed."

"She is." The door creaked. Director Tsukimoto marched into the room. "I can elaborate later. Coffee, Hiiragizawa-san? Four o' clock?"

"I prefer tea. Natsumi's, perhaps."

"Done. The table should be in the back. I don't want any unwanted publicity."

"None shall be given." Eriol unlocked his phone, tapped the screen three times, and pushed it back into his pocket. "I will see you then."

Tomoyo nodded and slipped back into her chair. Sakura didn't seem to notice her brief absence.

"Well! Would you look at that," Director Tsukimoto marveled. "Marvelous! How marvelous."

He took his place at the head of the table. The rest of the crew poured around him into their own seats.

"Let me introduce myself again," Tsukimoto said. "I am Daichi Tsukimoto: director, producer, and occasional scriptwriter of _The Law of Love._" He slapped his binder on the table. "Let me warn you right now: Your life is about to become torture."

He saw everyone's resulting expressions and decided to have pity.

"But it'll be torture with complimentary snacks."

::-::

The place was dark. Musty. Obviously unused. A single fluorescent light bulb flickered overhead, casting a ghoulish shadow on the molding wooden walls. People would guess it was a crypt. Perhaps a basement. If any who saw it came out alive, that was.

No one would guess that it had once been a vacationing spot; a cabin perched on the edge of a lake, full of happy memories and laughing families. Now it was reduced to this.

"Checkmate."

A single sleek hand materialized from the shadows, pushing a black queen forward three squares. The white king was hedged between the queen, a rook, and a bishop.

"I love chess," the owner of the hand sighed.

"Y-y-yes, ma'am," muttered the figure on the other side of the chessboard. He was the only one illuminated by the lightbulb. Tall, stocky, and with beefy arms, he seemed like the type to be unfazed by anything.

"But what is this, Kishida-san?" The sleek hand paused over the cash placed beside the chessboard. "I don't believe this is the agreed amount."

The burly Hisao Kishida wiped at the sweat beading his brow. "Yes. I could only get three quarters. The other quarter will be in by tomorrow. I swear."

A light tinkling laugh. It would have been a beautiful laugh, Hisao mused, if he wasn't on the receiving end of it. "Oh, Kishida-san. You really know how to keep a girl hanging."

Hisao let out a slow breath as the hand snatched his money. "It will be in your box by noon."

"I am glad. Because you will be staying here until it does."

Hisao froze. "P-pardon?"

Something shifted in the darkness. "We have a little... holding facility. It is all ready for you, actually. Its last resident just died yesterday." A pair of giddy hands clapped together. "What perfect timing! I believe I already had Ando-san air out the sheets, but if they still stink, just let us know."

"But I—"

A pale hand slapped itself on his neck, clutching it with an iron grasp. Hisao began to choke. "Now, now, please cooperate. I hate spilling blood here. It ruins the carpet."

Hisao nodded vigorously. The hand slackened. He gulped in as much oxygen as he could, afraid it would return.

"Before I have the boys take you away, would you like to see my collection?"

Hisao knew there wasn't a choice. He nodded again.

The hand slunk away from his neck, then slammed a large wooden chest on the table before him. It expertly undid the five locks secured around the edge, then swung open the lid. Inside lay hundreds—no, _thousands_ of newspaper articles, all having to do with...

"Sakura... Kinomoto?" Hisao murmured confusedly.

A purr. "Yes. Sakura. What an... _extraordinary _girl. Go ahead, pick an article. Any article."

Hisao reached inside the chest with trembling hands and gingerly selected an article, holding it as if it were radioactive. He gasped.

The picture of Sakura was mutilated. It had been ripped, torn, scrawled on, and sprinkled with either red marker or blood—Hisao had a feeling he knew which. One more glance into the chest showed him that all the other articles were the same: Every picture of Sakura was ruined, frighteningly so. Her eyes were gouged out, or her chest was cut, or her gorgeous hair was modified until it was laughable.

"I... I don't understand," Hisao mumbled.

"That's alright." The hand came slinking over his shoulder. "You don't need to. Boys!"

The door of the cabin creaked open. Three large men marched into the room.

"Take him to the holding facility."

And Hisao was dragged away without another word.

A woman emerged into the flickering fluorescent light. One half of her pale face was perfect—was beautiful, gorgeous beyond words. The other half was marred with scars, ugly red things that tore at both her skin and her sanity.

"What an amusing boy," she said, and leaned over her wooden chest of mutilated Sakuras. "Wouldn't you say so too... my daughter?"

And Nadeshiko Kinomoto smiled.

* * *

><p><em><strong>(AN: Would you believe me if I said that I also had no clue this twist was coming?)**_


	6. Scriptreading

_**(A/N: I realize I've forgotten disclaimers all along. Oh well. You guys know I don't own CCS anyway, right? Otherwise I wouldn't be writing fanfiction...**_

_**My sincere thanks to**_ thEy CaLl Me BeAuTiFul, kpopisawesome, JessMess, SakuSyaoLvr, animebookfreak12, Aizawa Li Syaoran Vessalius, MapleDumplings, mochiusagi, Belle Melodie, Rampant Poultry, _**and a very kind**_ Anonymous _**user. Reviews really do keep me going, as they do most authors. Thank you so very much for supporting my story!)**_

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><p><strong>6<strong>

::-::

"What other conclusion can there be?" Sakura slapped a hand on the table before her. "Your Honor, the defense must be confusing himself. During investigation, we tested the blood splattered on this card. The DNA matched the defendant's."

"Objection!" Syaoran stood so quickly that his chair squealed against the linoleum floor. "Your Honor, who in their right mind would leave such incriminating evidence?"

"One card is simply overlooked," Sakura bit out.

"The card was left in plain sight—on the victim's chest. It was clearly meant to be seen!" Syaoran leaned over the table, glaring at Sakura.

"Objection!" Sakura glanced down at her script. "If I may direct your attention to the autopsy report. The victim was stabbed three times in the chest with a twelve-inch knife. This obviously..."

She suddenly trailed off, and a furrow came between her brow. Syaoran perused his script, wondering what she found.

"Director Tsukimoto... Nakahara-san, Mizushima-san, Sato-san..." Sakura gently gnawed on her lower lip, flipping the pages of her script back and forth. "I think that maybe, just possibly, this one line could... be a little weak."

Director Tsukimoto noted with some amusement that Sakura said this rather timidly; almost like she was prodding an active volcano, waiting for it to explode at any moment. The writers, on the other hand, seemed to welcome her critique.

"Didn't I tell you that this reasoning is way too flimsy?" muttered scriptwriter Mizushima, slapping her boyfriend Nakahara over the head with her copy of the script. "Our brilliant prosecutor Akane Wakahisa would never say something like this."

"You were the one who suggested it in the first place!" whined Nakahara. He was the best at whining, just as Mizushima was the best at abusing.

Sato, the executive producer, was currently assuming his best meditative stance, two fingers placed on his forehead for extra emphasis.

"What would you have to suggest, Kinomoto-san?" Director Tsukimoto asked calmly.

"Well..." Sakura brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I find it really strange that the defendant's fingerprints were found on the knife, but nobody is bringing it up."

"Ahh, that comes into place later," Nakahara said proudly. "In page 33, you see..."

"Nakahara-san... With all due respect, I believe that may come too late," Sakura said. "Akane Wakahisa is a talented prosecutor, right? Why is she withholding the most important evidence? Especially since in this fictional court system, all cases must be solved within five days. She knows that Mamoru Mizu is a very intelligent defense attorney. Why is she giving him a chance to get on his feet?"

"I agree." Syaoran sat back down. "I find the script very enjoyable, but... there are many holes within both Kinomoto-san's and my logic. A true lawyer would be able to pick apart our arguments within milliseconds."

Director Tsukimoto forced himself to stanch the grin creeping up the corners of his mouth. Not only did he totally ship Sakura and Syaoran—not only were they incredible actors—not only were they incredibly charismatic—but they completely involved themselves in all other processes. He'd heard countless stories from other directors how Sakura and Syaoran were able to take direction to the next level by injecting it with inspired creativity.

"Take, for example, these lines. 'What killer would leave such incriminating evidence?' and 'The card was clearly meant to be seen.' While it's a _possibility_ that the card was meant to be seen, the far more likely option is that it was overlooked—as Wakahisa-san points out. After all..." Syaoran switched his gaze to the case files, also compiled by the scriptwriters. "Judging from the fact that the murder weapon was left on the scene, and hidden very crudely, the murderer is hardly a professional killer."

"Then again, she _did_ have 24 hours to conceal all the evidence," Sakura pointed out. "She even bribed carpet cleaners to take away the traces of blood, since none was found around the body."

"Then why leave the body at all? With that much time and such little civilization, she could've just disposed of it."

"Perhaps she didn't, because she wasn't the murderer."

"No one but the defendant and a bunch of carpet cleaners were sighted around that time."

"Maybe the true murderer was one of the carpet cleaners."

The scriptwriters' heads turned to and fro as they watched Sakura, who acted as the prosecutor, turn into the defense attorney, and Syaoran, who acted as the defense attorney, turn into the prosecutor.

"Did they memorize the case files?" Nakahara murmured.

"Such dedication!" Sato mused.

Mizushima slapped both of them on the heads. "Listen up. We're going to have to change the script."

Sakura's eyes widened. "Oh! That isn't necessary. Just these few lines, perhaps..."

"No. You guys keep going." Mizushima's eyes narrowed. "I want to see where this case takes you."

::-::

"Did you tell her yet?"

Tomoyo Daidouji's eyes flickered above Natsumi's High Tea's menu. "Tell who what?" she asked primly.

"Did you tell Kinomoto-san about her scheduled... outing?" Eriol lowered his menu and leaned across the table, propping his chin on the back of his hand.

Tomoyo raised her menu up, feeling strangely uncomfortable beneath his intense gaze. "Not quite... I only told her that she was to go to the ice cream parlor straight after the script reading. You?"

"Well, my dear cousin had a few more questions... but I think he knows I'm not going to assassinate him, so all seems well." To Tomoyo's relief, Eriol raised his menu again.

"Sakura-chan was curious too. I think she may know what we're up to."

Eriol smiled. "We took away a chance for reunion. Why not give it back?"

::-::

Fifteen minutes. That was how long Sakura and Syaoran had to look over the case files, speculate, and plan—to an extent—their own adlibbed trial.

Director Tsukimoto had protested that they were to be left, _alone_, in a separate room. _To let them discuss the facts of the case_. Which, to his later disappointment, they were actually doing.

"You haven't read the whole script either?" Sakura asked.

"If I did, I would know the outcome of the case." Syaoran stooped over the single coffee table between them. "Let's just go over the evidence. The murder weapon: Twelve-inch knife, stabbed three times into the victim's chest. Traces of both the defendant and the victim's blood were found on the knife. Maybe the defendant cut herself. The autopsy report states..."

He cut himself off, realizing that Sakura was strangely silent. He raised his gaze from the case files.

Sakura was leaning over the coffee table, elbows and hands supporting a propped chin, her brilliant green eyes searching him with an indescribable gaze.

"Is... something wrong?" Syaoran prodded gently, curling his fingers in the papers before him.

Sakura was silent for a moment. Then she retracted to her seat. "It's really great to work with you."

Syaoran let out a stiff sigh. The intensity of her eyes had caught him off guard.

"You're really dedicated," she said. "It's an incredible experience to work with a team when everyone's this dedicated."

Stomach churning. Heart racing. _This is _not_ a good time. Personal life is personal. Professional life is professional._ Syaoran forcefully cleared his throat and returned to the case files. "It's really fun. Working with you, that is. I'm looking forward to our trial."

Silence from Sakura.

Then after a moment: "Syaoran?"

Syaoran almost dropped the papers in his hands out of shock. Did she just call him... by his first name?

Sakura's hand flew up to her mouth. "I-I'm sorry! That just... that just kinda came out. I don't know where... I don't know how... I'm sorry!"

"What? No! No, it's fine!" Syaoran reached clumsily across the coffee table, gently lowering her hand from her mouth. "I mean, we're friends, right?"

Sakura nodded vigorously. "Right."

It was obvious to them both that using first names implied _far more_ than just friendship, especially without honorifics... but neither wanted to bring that up.

"You were asking me something?" Syaoran prompted.

"I wonder if we should just wing it," Sakura said. "Let's re-memorize the case files and have a natural trial. I feel like talking about the possible outcome could ruin the effect."

Syaoran felt a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. "Can you handle it?"

Sakura grinned. "Is that a challenge?"

::-::

"You absolutely must try this sandwich. It is a delight." Tomoyo dabbed elegantly at her the corners of her mouth.

"I find it quite odd, Daidouji-san."

"Oh." Tomoyo shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I suppose it is to be expected. Not everyone shares the same taste in food, after all."

"I wasn't referring to the sandwich, Daidouji-san. Excuse me for the confusion." Eriol plucked a duplicate sandwich from the platter before them. "I meant your behavior."

"Pardon?"

"You are acting in a completely different manner than you do around Kinomoto-san. From what I have heard, at least." Eriol thoughtfully examined the sandwich before popping it into his mouth all at once. "Am I, perchance, making you uncomfortable?"

"Oh! Absolutely not! You are, in actuality, very pleasant company." Tomoyo raised her napkin higher to hide the blush on her cheeks. "I haven't been able to act like this in _ages_. Not since Sakura-chan's mother... well, anyway."

"What's the reason for your difference in behavior, if I may ask?"

Tomoyo delicately sipped at her tea. "Sakura-chan and I have been best friends since we were children. I was there when she was dealing with her mother's death."

Eriol nodded. "She must have been... subdued."

"That is one way to put it." A tiny smile crept up the corners of Tomoyo's mouth. "A whole year passed, and she showed no signs of improving. So I decided to take some... er... _desperate_ measures."

"You changed yourself to cheer her up."

"I turned myself into a proper clown." Tomoyo cast her eyes downward in embarrassment, but she was still smiling. "An improvised musical here, a horrible pun there... They worked wonders for Sakura-chan. She stared acting again."

"But she is an adult. Surely you can change back by now?"

"I would rather not risk it." Tomoyo met Eriol's gaze. Her eyes were remarkably serious. "I know that Sakura can control her emotions... but if I were to reveal my true self, she would feel horrible."

Eriol raised a single eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because she would think I'd been forced to suppress myself all these years. And she would feel responsible." Tomoyo chuckled girlishly. "Besides, as silly as it seems, I've actually gotten quite fond of singing sporadically."

"I don't think it's silly," Eriol said.

"You don't have to say that just to make me feel better, you goose."

"I'm not. I think it's charming. That you care so much for Kinomoto-san to do this."

Tomoyo stopped in her tracks, silver spoon poised over a small bowl of strawberries and cream. "Pardon?"

"It's charming."

The spoon moved. "Oh. Well, thank you. No one has quite said that before."

"Because the world is full of idiots."

And Eriol and Tomoyo smiled for the rest of the tea, although they never said another word.

* * *

><p><em><strong>(AN: I know the story is beginning to drag a tiny bit, but I have big plans for a bit of fluff in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think! :D**_**_)_**

Semi-Important Announcement!**  
><strong>

_**I now have a writing tumblr at lcli dot tumblr dot com. At my tumblr will be previews, blurbs for upcoming stories, possibly eventually fiction, and most importantly,**_ progress bars_**. The progress bars are located on the right side of the website and will show how far I am on each story, along with my priority on each story. I sincerely hope that this will help in some way.**_

_**Please be aware that between 0 - 10%, progress bars may randomly change priority or even disappear entirely. Stories that do not have progress bars I consider discontinued or on hiatus.  
><strong>_

_**For each progress bar, I take into account inspiration (0 - 10%), 1st draft (11 - 70%), 2nd draft (71 - 90%), and final editing (91 - 100%). Unless what is listed is not a chapter, but an OUTLINE or OMAKE FILE or... well, basically, not a chapter.  
><strong>_


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